All the Right Moves
by Carol
Summary: A tag/missing scene for the end of Live Free or Twihard…Dean's hurts and angsts after his ordeal...spoilers...


**All the Right Moves**

**By Carol M.**

**Summary: A tag/missing scene for the end of Live Free or Twihard…Dean's hurts and angsts after his ordeal**

**Disclaimer: Don't own them, only love them**

**Spoilers: up to Live Free or Twihard**

**Author's Note: This picks up right when Dean wakes up from being devamped and goes from there. My official take on the Sam situation is that something is def up, but that eventually all things will be restored to normal. Maybe Sam lost his soul, maybe he's fantastically screwed up from hell, maybe he's an Alpha hunter, who knows? All I know is you can't appreciate the sweet without the sour, so when the boys do get back to their normal caring brotherly selves, it will be all the more better. Until then, here's some Dean angst and a bit of hurt/comfort and maybe a smidge of heart break. Btw, I don't think this was the end of Dean and Lisa either, just a little wrinkle that will get ironed out in time. Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

There were hands on him, keeping him upright, patting his chest, orienting him back to reality. To humanity.

"Hey…you're okay."

It took Dean a second to realize that it was Sam steadying him, talking to him, guiding him back. Hell, it took Dean a second to realize anything. And frankly, he was anything but okay.

He was lying on the floor of the motel. Everything felt fuzzy. It was like he'd spent the last few hours at a mind blowing tripped out ravey rock concert that had amped up all of his senses, and now that he had left the party, everything felt muffled and dull. His ears were full of cotton, his nose was stopped up with a clothes pin, his eyes were coated in murky film, his skin was covered in latex and his mouth was filled with bland paste. He felt utterly drained and weak. And human.

"Ugh," he groaned as the last few hours skittered at warp speed through his head once again. Vomiting black pea soup. Going all Last of the Mohican on the vamps nest. Scaring Lisa half to death. Watching himself get turned as Sam had watched. And hadn't done a damn thing to try and stop it.

"I'm gonna…" was all he managed before he scrambled up towards the basin and added some regular pea soup to the black collection.

By the time he was done, he was shaky and freezing and barely conscious. He felt a warm supportive hand on his back and realized it was Samuel's.

"You all right, son?" the elder hunter asked.

Dean didn't answer. Instead his eyes searched the room for his brother. He needed to see Sam and erase what he thought he'd seen during his journey back to humanity. Surely it hadn't been real. Sam would never let that happen. Would he?

"Sam?"

Dean felt a hand wrap around his arm. "Dean, you okay?"

He turned towards the voice of his brother. "Sammy?" he muttered weakly as he looked into his younger brother's eyes, searching. His brother looked like his brother. His eyes were wide and brown and concerned and concentrated, just as they should be. But there was something…something that just…

"You should get some sleep, Dean." Sam tugged at Dean's arm, pulling him up off the floor. "You look like hell."

Dean felt himself being lead on quaking legs over to one of the motel beds. Sam sat him down and helped him take off his jacket and remove his boots. As Sam maneuvered him into a prone position, his body reminded him of the beating it had taken the last few hours. His ribs stabbed at him with a sharp pain from where they'd impacted with the dumpster. His head had a few aching tender spots as well from where he'd bashed it in the alley and from when he'd collapsed into vampire ESP coma. His arm hurt too, feeling like it had been wrenched by super vamp almost to its breaking point. His stomach was miserably empty and throbbing from his black vomit fest. It felt like his insides had been hollowed out with a vat of acid. His throat had the same dry, burning, achy feel.

"Just rest Dean. Samuel and I are here," Sam said as he pulled up a comforter and literally tucked Dean into bed.

He should've felt protected and safe and at ease to go to sleep and know that Sam would watch out for him. Maybe not with Samuel because Dean didn't fully understand his angle yet. But Sam, there shouldn't have been a question. But the truth was, he didn't feel comfortable and at ease. Not by a long shot.

Unfortunately, Dean's body wasn't having the same trust issues. All it wanted was deep, hard, healing rest. As his body started to shut down, his brain justified the situation, allowing him to let go of his troubling visions and feelings of distrust in order to truly get some rest. He needed to sleep and get his strength back. Then he'd be able to make sense of what he'd just seen. Then everything would be cleared up and he could set his mind at ease. It was his last thought before sleep claimed him so deeply he was almost in a coma.

When he awoke, it was morning and things were a little less painful.

"Dude, I thought you were gonna sleep forever," Sam said, looking up from his laptop, antsy.

Dean wiped his eyes and groaned. "It's only been a few hours."

"Try a day, Dean," said Samuel.

Dean jumped, not realizing Samuel was still there. "Oh…surprised you stuck around this long."

Samuel shrugged. "Wanted to make sure you were alive. You are family after all. That and get a field report on what you saw."

"Right," Dean said as he glanced over at Sam, who also seemed to be chomping at the bit to get his first person vampire account. "Mind if I grab a shower and clean the blood off me first?"

It took a second before Sam answered. "Of course, Dean. Get yourself fixed up." If Dean didn't know any better, he thought he detected a hint of irritation glimmer across Sam's features. The pain in Dean's gut came back in full force and it had nothing to do with noxious vampire blood concoctions.

"I'll just be a few minutes," Dean said as he awkwardly grabbed his stuff and headed into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and turned on the shower. Even though he'd slept like a champion, his body was still tired and sore. He hurt everywhere. He pulled off his bloody clothes, not looking at himself in the mirror, not wanting to see the remnants of his bloody sojourn. He wanted all reminders of it washed away.

Fifteen minutes and a lot of hot water later, Dean was looking and feeling more like himself. But the uneasy feeling had only gotten worse. No matter how many times he went over it and over it in his head, leaving room for any possible timing, any possible misinterpretation, he came to the same unfortunate conclusion. Sam had watched him get turned and hadn't done a thing to stop it. It was another example of Sam not being Sam since he had come back from the dead. Something was off. The Sam he knew, the Sam that was his brother would never let something like that happen, no matter what hardened changes had taken place in him during his time in hell. Deep down, Dean knew that something was wrong with his brother. But he had no idea what the hell to do about it. Not yet anyway.

He walked out of the bathroom and played it business as usual, relaying what he learned about the vampire's nest and the alpha, never letting on what he had discovered about Sam. He watched his brother smile and nod and say all the right things. The ache in his stomach grew sharper. He needed…he didn't know what the hell he needed.

Lisa and Ben popped into his head then and the stomachache turned into full on nausea. God he wanted to see them. He missed the hell out of both of them, especially now when he was feeling so down and lost. He needed someplace safe to go where people cared about him. A home. A family. He never should've gone to see him when he was a tricked out vamp. If he had lost them because of it, it would break his heart.

He grabbed his duffel and cleared his throat loud enough to get Sam's attention. "Hey, I'm gonna pack up the car…maybe see if I can get a hold of Lisa…"

Sam nodded. "I hope it goes well," he answered, his tone sincere.

"Yeah…thanks." Dean picked up his bag and headed out the door. He waved a quick goodbye to Samuel and then headed out to the Impala, popping the trunk and throwing his bag inside. He pulled out his phone and dialed Lisa's number. His heart thrummed in his chest with nervousness, anxiousness, hope and fear. He wanted to hear her voice. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to make everything better. But he had no idea how. And he had absolutely no idea what the hell to say to her. With each ring that went unanswered, he felt like he was losing Lisa and Ben even more, the space between them growing even wider. By the time Lisa's voicemail clicked on, Dean was at an awkward loss. "Hey Lis it's…" He trailed off and hung up the phone. What the hell could he say? He didn't have a clue. He didn't have a clue about anything.

He slammed the trunk shut and jumped at Sam's presence.

"How'd it go with Lisa?" Sam asked.

"It didn't," Dean answered.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, seeming like he genuinely cared.

"Yeah," muttered Dean. He looked up at Sam, searching for his brother and seeing nothing but a Sambot in his place. "At least you've got my back. No matter what happens, I can always count on you, right, Sammy?"

Sam smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Of course, Dean."

Dean had never felt more alone in his life.

That's All Folks!


End file.
